


Fate or Chance

by LadyDarksbane



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Both Siblings Survive, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of non-con, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-17 18:52:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14837243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDarksbane/pseuds/LadyDarksbane
Summary: Tensions run high in Lothering before the small town is attacked by the darkspawn horde and the Hawke family await news of what's happened to Carver.





	1. Fear and Lothering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions run high in Lothering before the small town is attacked by the darkspawn horde and the Hawke family await news of what's happened to Carver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I began writing this story ages ago and have posted some of it on tumblr. It's unbetaed for now and updates will probably be sporadic as I have a couple other WIP's going as well. 
> 
> I know most people who read Dragon Age are usually interested in Inquisition, but Hawke is a favorite of mine. Then again I write for me.

Anxiety was rife within the small village located along the Imperial Highway. Refugees had flocked from outlying farms, hoping they’d be able to further flee the advance of the approaching horde, but many found naught but hopelessness in the village. The ruling Bann had taken his troops and marched north with Teyrn Loghain. News arrived of the defeat at Ostagar and the death of King Cailan. Many claimed it was the Grey Wardens who were behind it all and some spoke of how the often somber Order had been exiled a few hundred years before for attempting the same thing.  The Templars serving the small Chantry had their hands full, trying to combat the growing instances of theft and violence amongst the frightened folks living on the fringes of the village.

There were some who believed the Grey Wardens wouldn’t be so reckless as to betray the King and leave Ferelden to the mercy of the darkspawn horde. That particular opinion was making its way around the dim interior of Dane’s Refuge, the only inn and tavern within the small village of Lothering. Scared, huddled masses crowded the inn, leaving little room for people to even move about. They hastily consumed the food and drowned their sorrows in the watered down ale the barkeep served.

One such patron was a young local with shockingly white hair and a tattoo of a writhing dragon on his face. He tossed Danal a handful of silvers, claiming a mug of the ale for himself before settling into a stool before the bar. He sipped it quietly before glancing about the room. Besides the throng of refugees, he recognized a few other locals as well as a few Chantry sisters. Tamra, a friend of Bethany’s, was here along with a quiet redhead he’d seen on and off for the last few years. He didn’t recognize the third woman. Perhaps she was new. He usually paid little heed to the sisters. They didn’t concern him. It was the Templars in the town that made him wary. The blighted tin heads hadn’t seemed to figure out there was a family of apostates living just outside the town. That was a good thing. He swore he’d protect Bethany from the abuses he’d suffered over eight years ago.

He finished his ale and paid for another. This time Danal spoke to him as he served it up. “Say, Hawke, didn’t young Carver head off to Ostagar a while back? Have you heard anything from him?”

Hawke shook his head, “We haven’t heard a damn thing. My mother is out of her mind with fear that the darkspawn ate him. I say Carver would give the blighted spawn so much indigestion that they’d think twice about taking more than a bite or two. I’ve been telling mother that we should be packing up and heading for Gwaren or Denerim or somewhere other than here, but she won’t hear it until Carver’s back.”

“Can’t say that I rightly blame her, Hawke,” Danal sympathized. “I know she took Malcolm’s death hard. I still can’t believe he’s gone. He was a good man and a good friend. I can’t even begin to count the amount of times he took care of my family.”

Hawke shook his head as the memories of his father’s death haunted him, “It’s been rough. I had been away, roaming about the Coastlands, hoping to hear word of my brother, Andreas, when a messenger tracked me down. To think after the life my father led that he’d die from exposure to the elements. I would’ve thought he’d have known better. Taking over the running the farm wasn’t easy. I know I’ve done farm work for most of my life, but it was different without him. I miss him, especially in times like these.”

Danal shook his head, “You tell Leandra if she needs anything before you pull up stakes and move out to let me know. And here, have another on the house.” The barkeep handed Hawke another mug before he moved to the other end of the scarred counter to serve another who had bellied up to the bar.

Hawke shook his head, finishing his second mug before beginning on the third. He knew he should stop at three. He noticed soldiers, perhaps they were the remnants of King Cailan’s army. No, they wore the device of Gwaren. Teyrn Loghain’s men, he surmised. What were they doing here? It didn’t seem they had been left behind to protect the village. Whatever they were here for, he didn’t think it was for any good. Perhaps it was time he left before they became rowdy and he was forced to unleash a bit of magic to calm everyone down. He didn’t want that. He didn’t need to have Ser Bryant or Ser Maron dogging him all the way back to the farm. He had to protect Bethany.

He set his empty mugs back behind the bar and waved to Danal as he hopped off the bar stool. He had just about made it to the door when he heard a girlish squeal behind him. It stopped him cold in his tracks. He groaned to himself as he turned slowly, catching a blur of pink skirts as a petite blonde launched herself at him.  

“Elias Hawke, how dare you come in here and not speak to me?” She chided, feigning outrage as she wrapped her arms around him. “Did you bring your lute? The musicians playing would love it if you joined them. Oh, you aren’t leaving, are you?”

Elias peeled her clinging form from him, “Hello, Peaches. Yes, sorry, I need to head home. I only came to town to see if there was any new news from Ostagar. Carver isn’t home yet.”

Her pink tinted lips formed into a petulant moue, “Oh, you should stay. I’m sure Carver is fine. He swings his sword so well. I’m sure no darkspawn could harm him.”

Flashing a glare at her, Elias stepped closer to the door, “You would know how well he swings his sword, wouldn’t you?”

Peaches gasped at his innuendo. Once she recovered her composure, she hissed, “I have never done what you are implying, Elias Hawke. That’s very ungentlemanly of you!” Then she was gone in a flurry of skirts.

Elias chuckled to himself. That got rid of her and it allowed for his escape from the tavern. He drew in a breath of fresh air as he stepped out into the cool evening air. It had been smoky and stuffy inside the tavern, thick with the smell of fear and unwashed bodies. He pushed all thoughts of Peaches out of his head as he made his way through the village, once more making the trip back to the farmstead. He walked past the cage that held the oddest being he’d ever seen. The Revered Mother called him Qunari and said his people were from Par Vollen, far to the north. He stopped, regarding the large grey skinned creature. He didn’t seem all that fierce; though it was said he murdered an entire farmhold of people with his bare hands. At full height the Qunari was nearly eight feet tall. The cage afforded him little space and very little comfort. He couldn’t lie down, and had to sleep sitting up. Elias had heard the Revered Mother had denied him any sustenance. _How terrible that must be._

Elias stepped closer to the cage, listening to the Qunari’s rhythmic chanting. It was almost soothing to the ears, despite the fact Elias didn’t know what it meant. “ _Shok ebasit hissra. Meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit, aban aqun. Maraas shokra. Anaan esaam Qun_.” As much as Elias wanted to approach the creature and ask him what it meant, he knew he shouldn’t. One of the village tin heads had wandered into the vicinity of the cage and was watching them both intently. Elias waved at the Templar before heading past the windmill atop a nearby rise. It made him curious as to why the Templar had followed him. He wasn’t sure which one it was. Perhaps a new one he hadn’t seen before. He stored away the man’s description so he could tell Bethany. Maybe she’d seen the blonde haired man before. Bethany had always been good at keeping track of them.

Even more than that, returning home without anything new to tell his mother weighed on him. He was sure it would throw her into another fit of melancholy that her poor baby was lost at Ostagar, eaten by the spawn. This was despite the fact that Bethany had confided in him that she could still feel Carver. At one moment earlier in the week, she sensed his distress, but claimed the connection between them was still strong. Elias knew what that felt like. It was that connection that made him believe Andreas was out there somewhere, that his own twin was alive. Maker willing, he hoped to see him again.

As he reached the edge of Hawke farmstead, he noticed Bethany sitting on a tree swing not too far from the house. Her head was bowed, her expression pensive. He knew that could only mean one thing. Their mother must have given into despair once more. He made his way over to his younger sister, crouching before her, “That bad, huh?” His grey eyes met her bright blue ones, tinted red and swollen. Her normally rosy cheeks were stained with tears. “Hush, Bethie, dry your eyes. Carver will come home soon, I promise.” He kept his voice even, soothing her with an aura of calm as he spread his hands out, letting the magic waft over her.

Bethany sobbed brokenly, sliding off the wooden swing and into her older brother’s arms. “Soldiers passed by here while you were gone. They claimed all the King Cailan’s army died, that the darkspawn overwhelmed them and killed everyone.”

“Shush now, sweetie. Don’t you believe that. Just listen to what your gut is telling you and you’ll know that obnoxious little shit is fine. He’ll be back.” Elias held her tightly, rocking her against him. “I suppose mother is beside herself with grief, hmmm?”

Bethany hiccuped as she brushed her tears away, “Yes, she’s going to make herself sick if she doesn’t calm down. I’ve tried being strong for her, but it gets harder with every passing day. The not knowing is killing her and me.”

“There wasn’t anything new to be heard in town either. The place is packed with people fleeing their farms, trying to escape the horde. The only thing certain is that the horde is getting closer as the days go by. Hopefully Carver will make it home sometime tomorrow. If not, we may have no choice but to leave without him.”

Fresh tears coursed down Bethany’s face, “Don’t say that, Eli. We can’t leave without him.”

“I don’t like the thought either, Bethie, but we might have to. Carver wouldn’t be happy if we made sitting ducks of ourselves and let the spawn get us. I can almost hear his bitching.” Elias stroked her hair from her face before wiping away her tears. “And who knows? He may part of the army that marched with Teyrn Loghain. If so, he’s probably headed to Denerim. Just because he joined Cailan’s regiment doesn’t mean he stayed with them. I’ve heard they swap units of soldiers around all the time. I tell you what, you and I will head into town first thing tomorrow morning, well after we’ve done our chores, to check for any new news. Maybe there will be something posted on the Chanter’s Board.”

“Alright, brother, after chores we’ll go to town. I think right now we should check on mother. Maybe you should scrub your teeth before checking on her though. She’ll have another fit if she smells ale on your breath.”

Elias grinned at Bethany as he helped her to her feet. “I only had three,” he quipped. “That’s barely enough to get a buzz. It’ll be fine, sister. Maybe it’ll take her mind off Carver.” He escorted her to the house where they found their mother in the kitchen, putting the last touches on the evening meal. Just like Bethany, her eyes were red and swollen. Her cheeks were puffy and stained with tears. He strolled over to her, planting a kiss on her cheek, “Whatever you’re cooking smells good, Mother.”

Leandra slowly gave a wan smile before she returned to her task. “I made a roast. I thought Carver would like something that’ll stick to his ribs once he gets home. The food they serve in army camps is never that filling. And I made shortbread, too. Anything new in town?”

Elias took his place at the head of the table, “Unfortunately not. The Bann and all his men left with Teyrn Loghain. I did see a few Gwaren soldiers while in town. I think they were up to no good, though. I didn’t stick around to find out. All the trouble has the Templars feeling quite harried, though. Serves the bastards right. Hope the darkspawn chew out their liver.”

Leandra set a plate before Elias then handed him a mug of light wheat ale. He chuckled to himself as he tucked into the succulent roast with big chunks of potato, carrot, celery and onion. It was certainly delicious. “Darling, I know how you feel about Ser Bryant and his men, but not all of them are bad. There was one in Kirkwall that your father was friends with, though they couldn’t be open about it. From what I recall he was a good man. Malcolm claimed the man was given to the Chantry at a very young age and thus remained. That was such a long time ago. He aided Malcolm when we left Kirkwall for good.”

She sashayed about, placing a plate in front of Bethany before making up a third place setting meant for Carver if he returned home. It was only then that she took a seat opposite of Bethany with her own plate. Elias watched as she picked at the food, eating only a small bit while he wolfed down what she’d given him before taking a second helping. He seriously doubted that Carver would make it home tonight, but he couldn’t begrudge her the nightly ritual of setting out a place for him. Whatever it took to keep her from turning into an even bigger emotional wreck. Yet something niggled at him, telling him that Carver would show up soon, most likely sooner than he thought.

…

A few days passed quietly, almost uneventfully. The air had a charged feeling to it, like something was about to happen. It made Elias tense, more prone to snap at anyone who annoyed him. Leandra had taken to avoiding her older son when his mood grew dark and Bethany showered him with ice crystals, hoping her antics would bring a smile. Sometimes I worked and other times it made him worse.

She’d accompanied him to town each day he went, though she avoided the cage the qunari was being held in, stating that if she went anywhere near the murderer that’d killed one of her good friends she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from reigning fire and death upon him. While Elias sought news and a few ales within Dane’s Refuge, Bethany spent time with her friend Allison and Tamra. It lent a sense of normality as they giggled about a few of the more attractive men who had sought refuge in the town and talked about the latest shipment of fabrics and fashions now at the mercantile.

She perked up as a strange group consisting of three men, a woman and a mabari hound strolled past them. Her eyes followed their progress through the village. She knew she’d never the men before, but the dark-haired female seemed vaguely familiar. Bethany was sure she had seen the woman here in town before, usually during the summer when the farmers brought their wares in for the bazaar. It had been rumored that the woman was a witch of the wilds. Or at least that was what the Chasind frequently called her. The darkwood staff she displayed openly on her back made Bethany believe that was true. How silly for a mage to be so open about what she was in town being solely protected by a small contingent of Templars.

Her eyes moved from the woman to the three men. They were talking with Elder Miriam. One had short spiked reddish-blonde hair and carried a shield on his back with the sun symbol on it, but his scale mail armor was definitely not of Templar issue. The second was possibly a Dalish Elf by the tattoos on his face, wearing leather armor. A pair of daggers was sheathed at his back. The third man was clearly the leader of group. His dark hair was pulled back into a braided queue. The silverite armor he wore looked to be of better quality than the scale mail worn by his companion and upon his shield was two laurel boughs. She was sure that was the crest of ruling family from Highever. It was hard to remember, though. She was just a young girl when they lived on the outskirts of the city ruled by the Couslands.

Her attention was pulled away from the three men and their female companion as Elias hastened over to her, plopping down beside her. “You won’t believe what I just heard. There are Grey Wardens here in town somewhere. I’d love to meet them and see if they have any news from Ostagar.”

Bethany pursed her lips, motioning to the group she’d been watching who were still standing near Elder Miriam. “Those four could be the ones you’re looking for.”

Elias looked in the direction she was pointing. He eyed the four people carefully. “You might be right. I’ll be back.” He trotted off, heading directly to the group Bethany had directed him towards. As he moved closer, he noticed they were perusing a map and speaking in hushed tones. “Pardon me, I don’t mean to interrupt whatever you are doing, but I was wondering if you were at Ostagar.”

Four pairs of eyes set their gazes upon him instantly. He was startled by the intensity of warm honey, tawny yellow, sky blue and brilliant sapphire. They eyed him as curiously as he did them. The woman with the tawny eyes seemed familiar. She was from this area, he was sure, but whatever her name was, he didn’t know. It was man with the sapphire eyes who spoke up using an equally hushed tone, “Yes, we were. More than that, you don’t need to know.”

“Aedan, do you have to be so rude? I’m beginning to think Morrigan is rubbing off on you in more ways than one,” the man with the short spiked hair quipped as two of his companions rolled their eyes.

Elias frowned, his eyes narrowing, “I only ask because I’ve been awaiting news. My brother is a soldier in the army and he hasn’t returned home yet. I’ve heard all the rumors of what happened down there, but those haven’t sufficed.”

“I’m not really sure what I can tell you, friend. We survived only by the intervention of someone else. All I know is we lit the beacon that Loghain’s troops were supposed to respond to, but instead he turned them aside, leaving Cailan and the army to die. He left Duncan and all the wardens except us to die,” the blonde man replied, his voice thick with emotion.

“So you four are all that’s left of the Wardens?” Elias asked, eyeing them carefully.

Morrigan scoffed at him, “Bite your tongue. I am not a Warden.”

“I didn’t think so. I’ve seen you before. You live in the Wilds, if I’m not mistaken?” Elias replied. “I had hoped for some news whether my brother Carver had survived or not, but I understand if you can’t give me that kind of information. I thank you for your time. And you don’t have to worry about me saying anything about who you are.”

The blonde man held out his hand, “Oh, by the way, my name is Alistair and this is Aedan and Mahariel. I wish we had more news for you.”

“I’m Elias Hawke. Thank you.”

Aedan curtly nodded, his brow furrowing. “Do yourself a favor. If you have family here, it would be in your best interest to get them as far away from here as you can. Don’t wait. I doubt there will be anything that can stop that horde from destroying everything in its path.”

“Thank you,” Elias replied, noticing that Bethany had joined him. He turned to her, “We should go, Bethie. Time to head home.”

The dark haired girl nodded at him, “We should. I’m sure mother will be worried.”

It wasn’t until they reached the edge of town that he told her who they were. Her expression turned melancholy as he spoke of Carver. There was still no word of him. “Last night, as I was trying to get to sleep, I kept feeling a sensation of urgency. I know it was Carver. I think he’s been trying to make his way home. I can only imagine how difficult that is, though. He must be trying to avoid the horde.”

“I’m sure he is. I think we should follow the advice those Wardens gave me. We need to get away from here. I’ll talk to mother once we’re home. Hopefully she’ll accept their word.”

Bethany nodded, her expression turning grim. “I hope so too.”

…

Carver arrived home two days later, just slightly ahead of the horde. He burst into the house, bloodied, exhausted and leaning heavily on his sword. His appearance halted the hasty packing of the rest of the family. “We need to get out of here,” he gasped as Leandra and Bethany rushed to his side, hugging him tightly.

Knowing her twin was wounded, she quickly cast a healing spell, taking care of his more worrying wounds. Elias joined in, adding his spell to hers, despite the fact that he wasn’t as skilled at it as Bethany was. In that, she took after their father, showing an aptitude to the healing arts.

“Oh my baby, I’ve been so worried about you. I am so glad you’re home.” Leandra directed him to the divan in the small parlor before handing him a cup of hot tea. Next came a bowl of stew with a plate of bread.

“Mother, we have to go soon. The horde is not far behind me. Lothering will be overrun,” he exclaimed in between hastily shoveled bites of the hearty stew. He’d never tasted anything so good after living off of army rations for the past few months.

“Bethany and I have gathered up all the coin we have, and we’ve packed the essentials. All we have to do now is decide where we’re headed once we leave,” Elias spoke up as he grabbed their packs, setting them on the kitchen table. “I think we’ve got everything we’ll need. I turned the livestock loose. If what you say is true, there may not be anything left to come back to.”

Leandra hustled in, carrying a pack of her own which she placed on the table then she handed Elias and Bethany a staff each. “I know Malcolm would want you to have these.” Bethany giggled at the head of the staff she now held, a delicate blush on her face as her eyes fixed on the full figure of a voluptuous nude female.

“Father usually kept this one locked away because it reduced us to giggles,” Bethany smiled, remembering the first time she saw it as a child. “I know he claimed it wasn’t modeled after you, mother, but I remember a certain look in his eyes that said otherwise. I was too young to understand what that look meant, but now that I’m older I know.”

The wan smile on Leandra’s face said it all. Words weren’t needed at that moment. Elias chuckled, clearly remembering just how much his parents loved each other. He didn’t know if every married couple experienced that, but he was fortunate to have been raised by two people who had. It filled him with hope that someday he would find that kind of love as well, but for now, all that mattered was getting away from the darkspawn alive.

He looked over the staff he held in his hand. It was the one his father used the most. An orange orb topped the simple wooden staff that had a blade affixed to the bottom. He knew his father had carried this staff during his time with the Crimson Oars Mercenaries. He had wielded it like a sword, saving his magic until he really needed it. It had helped him blend in and avoid being rediscovered by the Templars. He remembered his father calling it ‘Parthalan’, claiming it had quite a storied history. Now it belonged to Elias.

…

The family fled their home, running for their very lives. Smoke and ash lingered on the breeze, oft times blocking out the sun. It didn’t take a genius to realize the horde had reached Lothering. Elias could barely believe the ruination that the darkspawn had wrought. Lush fields of green grass had been reduced to charred embers, devoid of any life. The destruction stretched as far as the eye could see. In the distance loomed what remained of the Imperial Highway. He knew if the family had any hope of surviving they would have to reach it. They raced over the blighted landscape, occasionally coming across stragglers from the vast horde.

Carver warned them not to swallow any of the darkspawn blood, relating what he’d been told before the battles at Ostagar. The blood was poison. He had heard that a few soldier’s had died from the taint. That couldn’t have been a pretty death. The very thought sent chills down Elias’ spine. They would get away somehow.

As they fled, the number of darkspawn they encountered increased. It felt good to unleash a storm of magic, searing them with fire and lightning. Elias wasn’t worried about attracting any tin heads this time. The ones in Lothering had already fled along with the Chantry priests. So much for being the last line of defense that the village had.

It turned out that the ones from Lothering weren’t the ones he would need to be concerned with. Between a break in the fighting, Leandra decided they would go to Kirkwall, to her childhood home. The thought of being amidst a city full of Templars filled both Bethany and Elias with dread and he knew it would be harder to hide their talents. With a heavy heart, he knew he’d have to lead his family through the perilous Korcari Wilds and cross the Brecilian Passage in order to reach Gwaren. Once in Gwaren he knew they would be faced with the task of garnering passage on a ship. He just hoped there would be one.

Fate intervened, though. Along the trail, they met a warrior woman who had been an officer in King Cailan’s army and her Templar husband. His presence put Elias on edge, but it was clearly obvious that he was in no condition to wield a sword. Begrudgingly, Elias welcomed them into the fold. Aveline’s skills were sorely needed if they hoped to survive. He only hoped that Ser Wesley would forgo his duty of catching apostates since it behooved him to accept the protection their magic provided.

With a cruel twist of fate, they encountered an Ogre, and lost Leandra to the beast’s crushing blows. Seeing his mother’s broken body, her life essence soaking into the parched, blighted ground was all too much for Elias. He threw himself recklessly at the creature that had killed her, casting fire and lighting, ice and stone, feeling his mana deplete with every spell cast. It took the combined efforts of his and Bethany’s magic, Aveline’s steadfast protection and Carver’s pulverizing blows to bring the creature down. With the ogre dead, more spawn surrounded them. How could it have come to this? The spawn closing in, their imminent deaths looming… This couldn’t be the end.

Salvation came on the wings of a dragon. Fire reigned from its enormous maw, charring everything in sight. The irony of the rescue wasn’t lost on Elias at all.

 _Was it fate or chance?_ He couldn’t decide either.

…


	2. Indenture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being indentured to a smuggler isn't all that bad...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really think I'll be doing a step by step linear retelling of the DA2 questline, because that's been done and it'd probably be boring so I kinda thought I'd do it differently. More like excerpts, if that makes sense... it probably doesn't. Pieced together it will tell the whole story, but it could be more like a series of one-shots. IDK.... I'm just gonna see what happens when I write some more.

They traveled south, blighted ground stretching as far as the eye could see. The witch generally flew overhead in some form or other. Sometimes a dragon. Sometimes a bird. She was always in view. They encountered small pockets of darkspawn, stragglers from the horde. Nothing the four of them couldn’t handle on their own since the witch seemed disinclined to lend further assistance.

They traversed the Southron Hills to the Brecilian Passage, traveling it south past Ironbrook and Stonewar. Neither settlements had been touched by the Blight or the horde, but were eager for news of Lothering’s destruction, fearful it could happen to them. The small party didn’t stay in either town long, only to resupply. Both had a Chantry and the presence of Templars. Elias and Bethany remained out of sight while Aveline and Carver took care of the shopping.

Three weeks after the Ogre attack beyond the ruins of Lothering they finally had Gwaren in sight. The town was large, despite the fact it could only be accessed by sea or by the route they had just traveled. This was the first city liberated from the Orlesians during the rebellion and home to Loghain Mac Tir, though he spent more time in Denerim. Its port bustled with activity. Elias worried they’d come all this way for nothing.

But as it turned out all his worries that were for nothing. Gaining passage on a ship turned out not to be as hard as Elias expected. There were several leaving, headed towards Denerim or the Free Marches. And thus, the second leg of their journey began. Being cramped in the dark hold of the ship with other desperate refugees hadn’t been easy. He encountered several unsavory types’ intent on stealing what little possessions they had left, but a well placed jolt of lightning tended to set them straight. More than that the emotional state of his sister and Aveline worn on him. He wouldn’t begrudge them the time to grieve. His heart ached something fierce over the loss of Leandra. Despite the fact he knew there was no other recourse to keep the darkspawn and any other scavengers that may have been lurking from desecrating her remains, burning her body and scattering her ashes to wind was the hardest thing that he’d ever done.

It became harder to keep from giving into despair as the darkness of the hold as Carver’s rage and Bethany’s melancholy sank in. He wanted to make everything better for them, but for the life of him, he didn’t know how.  He fervently wished Mother was here. She always knew just what to say to make everyone feel better. He couldn’t believe she was gone. He knew it was wrong to wish death on anyone, but why couldn’t it have been Carver in her place. Carver was the soldier, the warrior that wielded his blade so flawlessly. Remorse tore through him at his unkind thoughts. He knew Mother had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Most of all, he wanted this journey to be over. To be on dry land once more, to not feel so uneasy about the darkness surrounding him… that would be worth more to him than all the sovereigns in Thedas.

…

As the black cliffs of Kirkwall came into view, a fresh wave of anxiety settled upon him. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what would happen once they reached the city. Mother had sent a letter to her brother Gamlen, but without her here with them there was no guarantee he’d be willing to help them. After all, they were nothing to him. Leandra’s apostate children… and Carver, too.  Not to mention Aveline, a woman Gamlen didn’t even know. He tried to keep his spirits up, to not give in to despair, but it was such an easy trap to fall in to.

The ship docked in the Gallows, which housed Kirkwall’s Circle of Magi. Elias was wary of being there, but both he and Bethany had been taught very well how to hide their magic, to dampen their mana to near undetectable levels by even the most skilled Templars. It was a skill that had saved them both on numerous occasions. As he departed the ship, the first thing he noticed was how many refugees were camped here. It soon became evident that none of them were being allowed in the city.

From a stationed guard he learned the city was closed and no one was being allowed entry, by order of Knight-Commander Meredith. He thought it strange that a Templar made the rules, but soon learned she was the true power in Kirkwall, not the Viscount. That knowledge did little to settle his unease, but they had nowhere else to go. They had to find Gamlen. The sooner they found their uncle, the better he’d feel.

But Elias should have known that nothing ever went the way one expected it to go. Gamlen Amell turned out to be a disappointment, to say the least. The vulgar swine had sold off the Amell estate to settle a debt, and now resided in the slums of Lowtown. The man wanted nothing to do with Leandra’s mongrel children. He may have helped Leandra escape with Malcolm Hawke, but his generosity ended there. As far as he was concerned they could all head back to Ferelden and die from the Blight. His refusal to help them stung, but somehow Elias had expected it. It was just how their luck had been. It might have been different if Leandra had been there.

“We’re getting into this city one way or another. We don’t need him.” Elias vowed with a voice full of piss and vinegar. They’d come too far to turn back.

“Do we need to stay here? Why can’t we try another city? Somewhere further inland. There has to be places that aren’t full of refugees.” Carver suggested.

“And how are we supposed to get there? We don’t have the coin to take another ship.” Elias retorted as something in his peripheral vision caught his eye. An elf of all people was trying hard not to be seen signaling them. What did she want?

He walked away from a sputtering Carver and approached the elven woman wearing intricate brown and green armor. It almost looked Dalish, but she bore no tattoos on her face. “Can I help you?” Elias asked as he walked near her and leaned against one of the large columns bearing a rather disturbing bronzed slave statue.

“The real question you should ask is how I can help you?” She turned his words around on him.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, an eyebrow raised in askance. “Alright, I’ll bite.”

“I’ve had my eye on you. You and your companions are different from everyone else here. Oh, I’ve seen thugs, swords for hire and soldiers pass through these gates, but none like you. Why is that? Makes me curious. Makes me think you might be just what I need.”

“And what do you need?” He wasn’t sure he liked where this was going, but he’d at least hear her out.

“Skill and discretion. I think you possess those things. How else has an apostate gone undetected right beneath the noses of the Templars for as long as you have?” The elf chuckled in a low voice. “What’s more, we can keep them from noticing you while you’re with us. Wouldn’t be the first time. The Templars in this city like to think they have all mages properly leashed, but when has that ever been true?”

“Just who are you?” Elias hissed as he turned a pair of grey menacing eyes upon her.

“Name’s Athenril. Me and my crew… we may not be as big as the Coterie, but we keep our fingers in a lot of pots. That said we’re not killers or slavers. Everything else is fair game, though.”

Elias scoffed, “Smugglers.”

“I like to think of it as liberators of fine goods,” she grinned. “All you need to know for now is I have the coin to open those gates for you and all I require of you is that you work off your debt… for the next year. I doubt you’ll find a better offer elsewhere. Unless you want to stay here. Either you’ll be found out and become a permanent resident of the Gallows or you’ll end up on a ship headed back to blight stricken Ferelden.”

“Do you need an answer now or can I have a moment to talk it over with my companions?”

“Please do.”Athenril grinned, “Don’t take all day.”

Elias rolled his eyes. He pushed away from the pillar and returned to Bethany and Aveline. Carver didn’t seem to be anywhere around. “I know how we’ll be getting into the city. It may not be something all of you will be willing to agree to, though.”

“What?” Bethany asked.

“An elven woman named Athenril runs an outfit. She’s willing to pay our way in if we work off the debt.”

“Indenture!”Aveline’s strident voice called out. “Hawke, you can’t be serious.”

“We’re refugees. Do you honestly believe we’ll get a better offer? At least this gets us into the city. Besides it’s only a year.” Elias retorted. “Do you have a better idea?”

The ginger haired warrior woman glared at him. She shook her head, “No, I guess not. What kind of work is it?”

“She’s a smuggler,” he leaned in and whispered in her ear.

“Hawke, you can’t honestly believe I’d do that kind of work!” Aveline protested. “You aren’t considering this, are you? There has to be another way. If someone like her is recruiting then maybe others are as well.”

“How many choices do you think we really have? If you don’t like it, you can find your own way, but as far as I’m concerned, this is as good as deal as we are going to get. Beth and I can’t afford to be choosy,” he hissed. His only concern was taking care of his siblings. He owed nothing to the ginger haired warrior who’d stuck with them all the way from Lothering.

Carver ran over to them, “Brother, maybe your idea isn’t the only one after all. The Red Iron Mercenary Company is also looking to take on new people. I just talked to Meeran. Same deal as your smuggler is offering. Indenture for a year in order to work off the debt. At least this way is honest.”

“Do you really think Beth would be comfortable as a mercenary?”

“I’ve never seen myself as the mercenary type,” Bethany replied. “Both offers scare me, but if I have to choose one I’d probably go with Elias and the smuggler.”

“There you have it. You and Aveline can be mercenaries and Beth and I will join Athenril. You won’t have to worry about being overshadowed by me for once.” Elias curled his upper lip in a sneer. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep Beth safe. Besides she may have contacts I can use to find Andreas.”

And so the split began. Carver and Aveline signed on with the Red Iron while Elias and Bethany joined Athenril’s small outfit of smugglers.

Working for Athenril certainly wasn’t pretty by any means. Hers was a small operation. They were in constant danger from the Coterie, but somehow they survived and were quite successful at it. Some of the jobs they handled involved smuggling thousands of sovereigns. Others involved lyrium. Most of their work involved luxury goods liberated from upscale merchants in Hightown. As long as they got paid, Elias really didn’t care. It was just one step closer to being free of the indenture.

As far as tracking down his twin brother Andreas, his hunch had been right. Athenril did have contacts within the Raiders. That knowledge came as a shock. His twin… a raider, pirate. Andreas was a ship captain, known as Black Dread. While it didn’t make him happy, he knew _if_ he could get a message to him, he and Bethany may have somewhere else to go if the Templars came to call. Hopefully that wouldn’t happen, but one never knew. They’d had close calls and he swore he’d die and take as many templar’s with him as he could before he’d let them get their hands on Bethany. He wouldn’t allow what happened to him to happen to her.

…

“What’s the job for tonight?” Elias asked as he approached Athenril, finding her crouched behind a stack of crates on the western docks.

“There you are, Hawke. I expected you an hour ago,” the elf frowned at him. She was normally easy-going, but tonight she was glaring daggers. _If looks could kill…_

Elias shrugged, “I had to teach my greasy uncle a lesson not to steal from me. Bastard wouldn’t help us get into the city, but now that we’re staying with him, and paying for the food it’s all his. He traded that pouch of gems you gave me for a night at the Rose.”

Athenril turned her moss green eyes upon the young mage as her frown turned into a devilish grin, “What did you do?”

“Laid a nightmare hex on him,” Elias smirked as he knelt beside her. “He’ll stop screaming eventually. And if he doesn’t, I’ll silence him. So what do you have for me tonight?”

“You, me and Garriel are headed out to the Wounded Coast. We’ll be boarding a ship. It belongs to a friend in the Raiders. They’re after an Orlesian brig called _The Duchess_. Once it’s disabled, Arinaya, Caris and Bethany will join us from a second ship to strip it of its loot. They promised a share of the profit if it all goes according to plan. Oh, speaking of raiders, I have something for you.” Athenril pulled a letter from inside her pocket and handed it over to him. “Don’t know what you wanted with a blackguard like Black Dread, but he sent a reply. I’d stay away from him if I were you. He’s nothing but trouble. Bad trouble, Hawke. Murder, kidnapping, extortion, slavery… bad as Ianto. The stories I’ve heard about him, well it’s said he sold his family into slavery.”

Elias gave her an angry look. He hadn’t told her the whole story of who and why, but now it was time to come clean. “That’s fucking bullshit. He didn’t sell his family. Bethany and I are his family. He’s my twin brother, Athenril. I haven’t seen him since we were 16 years old. It’s been almost eight years. To me, he’s Andreas, not just some raider.”

A visible shudder coursed through his elven boss. “I wouldn’t be caught calling him by any other name but Black Dread, family or no, if I were you. I think I’d forget the whole notion of having anything to do with him. He’s trouble. Now let’s go.”

Elias cocked an eyebrow at her skeptically as he followed her out. He didn’t believe that. They were brothers. Twins. Their parting may have been tumultuous, but they were older now. Enough time had gone by to set aside the past and hopefully start anew. He missed Andreas, especially since both their parents were now gone. He was not the same person he was eight years ago, though. He knew the blind adoration of his much larger, stronger brother wouldn’t hold much sway. Andreas needed to know that he held no blame, no ill will against him for the attack by the Templars that led to Andreas running away.

…

A male elven bowman joined them shortly thereafter and they made haste to the Wounded Coast, boarding a well armed frigate called the _Seven Daggers_ that was docked in a sheltered cove. A second ship called the _Salty Wench_ set sail from an adjacent cove at the same time. Elias figured it was the ship Bethany was on.

Athenril had briefed him on what he’d be doing. The Seven Daggers had several apostate mages as crew members. It was his job to join them in raining fire and lightning at The Duchess as they forced it toward the cliffs. He brought extra lyrium potions, ones he had been saving for such an occasion as this when he could unleash his magic without fear of being caught.

The ships sailed out into the Waking Sea. After an hour at sea, they sighted the Orlesian brig sailing towards them. They readied for the attack, letting the brig sail past. The attack on the brig was bloody as it was fast. By the time it sank, they had unloaded the goods and were sailing back to the Wounded Coast. Athenril gave Elias and Bethany their share, after putting a portion of it toward paying off the indenture.

Bethany joined him at the Hanged Man afterwards. He wanted to read Andreas’ letter, without Gamlen sticking his nose into it. The hex would’ve long worn off. He figured he find his wretched uncle stone cold drunk. 

He tossed Nora a silver piece for two mugs of the swill Corff served and opened the letter. It was thin, very short and written in flowing script. His handwriting wasn’t anywhere near that neat or legible. Bethany had often called it ‘chicken scratch.’ Carver’s was the same way.

_To Elias Hawke, Kirkwall:_

_You’re chasing rainbows with no pot of gold at the end._

_The man you seek died years ago._

_Signed,_

_The Black Dread_

Elias’ heart plummeted in his chest. Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, he showed it to Bethany, before producing a ball of flame in his fist, burning the parchment to ash. “I had hoped he’d come around. I had hoped we could count on him if we needed a quick getaway if the templars tried to take us to the Gallows. Fuck it! I should have known better!”

“It’s his loss, Eli. We don’t need him.” Bethany tried to comfort him, but her words sounded hollow.

“Let’s just go home. I’ll feel better after some sleep.”

…


End file.
